


Osiria's hybrid boy

by chumpi



Category: Doctor Who, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Peter Parker, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bottom Peter Parker, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Doctor Who References, Echoes of Clara Oswin Oswald, Flowers, Multi, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who), Peter Parker & Bucky Barnes Are Soulmates, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker flies the tardis because y not, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a time lord, Peter Parker is the doctor, Peter Parker isn't Spider-Man, Peter is an adult, Poems, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Bucky Barnes, Soulmate Flower tattoos, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chumpi/pseuds/chumpi
Summary: People are born with flowers, stretching across their bodies and winding around their ankles, entwining with each other and blooming in the spring. Your soulmate is said to have the same.But when Peter Parker is born with none to show, he becomes known as Gallifrey’s mystery boy.At first, not even his fellow Time Lords can explain the lack of flowers, but then one day, during a body scan on the planet Judoonia, they find an Osiria Rose etched into the boy’s heart.Determined to find his one and only, Peter steals a TARDIS and runs away to become known as ‘the Doctor’ or ‘A madman with a blue box’, traveling throughout time and space with different companions, hell-bent on findingthe one.And then he finds Bucky Barnes.(PETER IS AN ADULT)





	Osiria's hybrid boy

**Author's Note:**

> wow, love starting stories i know i'll never finish !!

“The flowers bloom all over skin, but his have gone array,  
He steals a box and runs and runs just to be away.  
His friends and foes know of what he’s lost,  
His eyes are dark and full of frost,  
With bowties and trench coats, he was here to prey,  
But Bucky’s found and it’s time to stay.” 

 

A woman, with sunken cheeks stained streaky with tears and skin paler than that of Snow White’s lay sprawled atop a bed, her eyes widened to an unimaginable size as she looked frantically about; trembling, _shaking_ hands clawing at the doctors and nurses whom hastily sped past her. She opened her mouth to speak, a long, ear-piercing wail tearing free from her vocal cords. _“Where is my baby?”_ The woman started shrieking like a crow, all scratchy and raw. _“Why don’t I have my baby!?”_ The newly found mother was, understandably, acting like a bull presented with the colour red – unstable and angry, unpredictable and dangerous.

 

“Put her under!” A voice shouted to another, loud over the woman’s consistent screeching and wailing. “She shouldn’t have to see this.” The voice belonged to that of a male’s, slightly rough but yet the tone was still sickeningly calm, even in the situation they found themselves a part of.

The man – whoever he was – was currently cradling a smaller-sized, silent baby in his arms, resting the child’s soft head in the crook of his elbow, completely entranced by the baby’s large, brown orbs staring up at him. There was an unexplainable wisdom in the little boy’s wide eyes – the man had a feeling he would grow up to be something new, something special, something _great._ He could just _tell._

 

It took only a few minutes for the enraged, confused, most likely _scared_ woman to fall silent, the anaesthesia being endlessly pumped into her system inevitably lulling her into a peaceful silence. And the man – still cradling the baby – decided that that moment was the right time to speak up, for now he could be heard properly, and by all present. 

 

“He’s blank.” 

 

Those two, simple words, sent the room into a panic-induced frenzy. Nobody could possibly be _blank._ It was a scientific impossibility. Everyone knew, no matter who you were or what you were going to grow up to be, was born with _at least_ one flower tattooed into their skin, even the Daleks had _something,_ but as it seems, this baby right here, had none. 

 

Throughout all of the shouting and the panicked rushing about, (the loud ruckus the other doctors in the room were causing) the small newborn stayed as silent as ever – his soft eyes wide and full of wonder as he stared upwards at the – slightly confused - face of the man holding him. 

The two seemed to be stuck in a never-ending stare off, both unblinking and unmoving. But then, the young’un’s eyelids fell shut over his honey-brown orbs. Ending the stare off completely. The baby’s breaths shallowed out into an even pace and soft snores fell from his mouth – oh how quickly a child could sleep. 

 

It was odd though, children usually cried after, and or during, being birthed, but this baby didn’t. He stayed as quiet as a mouse throughout the whole ordeal. It was strange, intriguing, and confusing at the same time. Something unheard of.

The doctor didn’t question it though, he simply handed the small child over to a nurse who was waiting patiently by his side, motioning for her to put him in the crib next to the subdued mother and walked out of the room. 

 

He gently tugged down the mask covering his lower face and pulled off his scrubs, dumping them in a bin near the sink. 

His face was wrinkled slightly and his hairs were greying slightly – a result of aging. Over a thousand years spent on Gallifrey as a trusted surgeon. He’d delivered many, many children over his long years of work, but never one with zero soul marks. Hell, there’d been some babies with soul marks on their _scalps,_ but never anything like this. 

The new baby was an abnormity, something unnatural, a hybrid almost. It was worrying, he had no idea what to do, or say to the mother when she awoke. He had no idea what would even _happen_ to that poor child. 

 

The man dragged a calloused hand over his tired face as he entered an empty chamber. 

 

It was time he had a chat with the High Council. 

 

\--

 

“I’m telling you, my lord, he was born _blank,_ no soul marks at all. It’s a complete mystery to how it’s happened, but it has. He’s the first being in the whole universe to have this abnormality.” The man ran a hand through his hair, he’d been trying to explain to the High President of the situation for the past half an hour, but the man was having none of it. 

 

“Colrifudractrann!” The other man on the hologram had his arms folded tightly over his chest and his words were practically over-flowing with fury. “It’s _impossible_. We’ve been over this, time and time again. It’s simply not possible for this to happen. Nobody can just be born _without_ soul marks. You know that; everybody knows that. Stop trying to trick me into thinking that, on the off chance, somebody _has_ been born blank.” 

 

The surgeon – now found to be called Colrifudractrann or Colrif for short – rubbed at his tired, heavy eyes from underneath his glasses, “I can assure you he’s blank, my lord. I’ll have the guards send you some 3D prints of the baby for proof if need be. I’ll be waiting for your response.” And with that, he ended the transmission. Although it being completely disrespectful to simply cut a call short with the High President of Gallifrey (the act could even result in being forced into an early regeneration) it had to be done; he simply couldn’t bear to spend the next hour fighting on the fact whether or not somebody could be born without their soul markings. He just couldn’t. 

 

Colrif was cut short from his thoughts when a short Gallifreyan nurse with trimmed brunette hair and a slightly rounded face knocked gently on the chamber doors, proceeding to enter the room after a moments of pause, “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the mother of the newly born child, however, has awoken and is demanding to know why her baby has no flowers. I thought you’d be the best one to explain it.” Her voice was undeniably sugary sweet, like one of Gallifrey’s finest delicacies and her eyes were a soft, honey-brown, wide and full of mystery. 

“Thank you,” He paused, frowning as he racked his mind for the young nurses’ name, “Oswin was it?” After the nurses’ nod, confirming his uneducated guess at her name, he continued, “I’ll be there shortly. I’d like you to get me in contact with whoever is running Judoonia nowadays. It would be greatly appreciated.” His tone, albeit on the softer side, left no room for any argument. 

The smaller nurse, _Oswin_ , smiled, “Of course, sir, I’ll have the hologram transmission ready for you in here for when you get back.”

 

Colrif was silent as he watched Oswin leave, the heavy door falling shut behind her with a surprisingly soft ‘click’. His mind was running at about a hundred miles per hour, filled to the brim with thoughts and ideas of how he could – as kindly as possible - break it to the poor newly-mother that he had simply _no_ idea at all to why her son was born bare. He had no explanation for the whole ordeal and was just as confused as the next person, never mind his clever intellect.

 

With a heavy sigh, he got up from his previous sitting position, leaving the room briskly. 

He didn’t register any of the time he spent walking down the long hospital halls, only coming back to his senses when he found himself stood silently outside of the woman’s room, his fist hovering _just_ over the wooden door mid-knock. There was a muffled crying seeping through from the crack underneath the heavy door, he couldn’t _really_ tell if it was the babies or the mothers, but he had a sinking feeling it was the elders. 

 

He softly rapped his knuckled against the hefty door twice, only actually entering when a quiet, ‘Come in,’ sounded from the other side of the wooden door. 

The room, to say the least, was a mess; with chairs strewn about and pieces of smashed vases littered on the ground, it’d be a pain in the arse to clean up and certainly _wasn’t_ ideal for a newborn and somebody who had _just_ given birth. He made a mental reminder to ask one of the nurses to clean the mess – maybe Oswin, seeing as she was quite reliable as it was. Although he didn’t want to overwork the poor Gallifreyan.

The newly-mother was sat in a chair towards the back of the room, her flushed cheeks streaky with tears and her bottom lip quivering as she stared at the sleeping baby in her arms.

“Explain to me, Doctor,” the woman started quietly, _carefully_ , still cradling the small bundle in her arms towards her chest, “Explain to me why this, this _thing_ doesn’t have any soul markings? What could I have possibly done in my past regenerations to deserve this monstrosity? This _freak_ of nature?” Her voice was clouded thick with emotions: resentment, confusion, anger. All three forcefully mixed together into one big ball.  
Colrif certainly hadn’t expected this; most mothers were overjoyed with their new children, no matter what deformities or ails they’re born with.

 

“Ma’am,” Colrif started slowly, _cautiously,_ choosing his next words extremely carefully in order to not provoke the quite obviously distressed woman any further. “I can assure you that baby right there is no freak of nature, nor a monstrosity. He’s just different.” He offered her a gentle smile, in hopes that she would reconsider her previous thoughts. 

 

But alas, the woman started to shake her head vigorously from side to side, an almost crazed look in her milky-brown eyes, “This is not my child.” She spat. “This, this _creature,_ right here, against my chest, is not, and never will be, _my_ child.” She thrust her arms forwards, holding the, surprisingly, still sleeping baby out towards Colrif, a cold expression on her face. 

“Ma’am,” Colrif started slowly, his eyebrows raised to his receding hairline, although he was quickly cut off from saying anything more.

“Take him, or I’ll send him off to guard the cloisters for the rest of his regenerations.” The mother’s tone was threating and defiant; the man knew better to doubt that she would, so he made the best decision possible, he took the baby and left.

 

-

 

“Colrif! Do we have to do this?” The young Gallifreyan whispered harshly, tugging nervously at his red and gold-embroidered hood; it covered the majority of his face but he was still so nervous that the other Time Lords the two were passing would come to recognize him and stop them immediately, handing them into the high president (seeing as the two were _sort of classed as fugitives,_ but that was a story for another day). The boy frowned as his arms brushed against an older man, his soft-brown eyes widening as he glanced around nervously, trying to keep a calm demeanor; his smaller hand gripping Colrif’s bigger, calloused one. 

He was only around 110 years old, hadn’t done anything like _this_ before - still _technically_ classified as a ‘baby’ in Gallifreyan terms. But if anyone asked him, he’d _insist,_ till the day he died, that he was an adult. 

“You know we have to do this, it could be the answer to your odd,” Colrif paused his sentence as the two turned down another long hallway, “ _Disability_.”

The younger boy huffed incredulously, halting his movements and pointing towards a room, a hologram filled with Gallifreyan words hovering in front of the wide doors, “They’re in here,” He whispered to Colrif, watching with curiosity as the man in question gently opened the doors, peaking inside and motioned for the younger male to follow him in when he confirmed that the room was void of anyone else.

“They’re all broken but it’ll have to do,” Colrif mumbled, slightly to himself, entering one of the time-traveling devices. 

 

“Doctor?” The younger boy was about to follow when he heard speaking coming from his right. 

 

“Doctor?” There was a petite woman with short brunette hair dressed up in traditional Gallifreyan clothing, stood quite close to another one of the Tardis’. He didn’t really know if she _was_ talking to him, seeing as he was no Doctor, but he chose to respond anyway, making sure his mentor/father was busy and glancing back to see Colrif preoccupied with messing with the control panel.  
“  
Yes, yes what is it?” He questioned uneasily. 

There was an almost humorous look on the woman’s face as she responded, “Sorry, but you’re about to make a very big mistake.” 

What on Gallifrey did that mean? How would she have even known if this was a mistake? What was that even _supposed_ to mean?

“Don’t steal that one, steal _this_ one.” She stated, leaning against the Tardis in question. “The navigation system’s knackered, but you’ll have much more fun.” The woman winked.

 

He turned back one last time to look towards Colrif, the man still occupied, and when he turned back to the woman, she was gone. He took this as a sign.  
“Colrif! Come on, this other one is in much better shape, trust me,” He spoke quietly but quickly, motioning for Colrif to follow him into the other Tardis. 

 

The interior of their new-found time-traveling machine was quite simple and mainly just like the other, previous one. With a plain white and grey colour scheme and odd, rounded circles covering the walls, it was almost, peaceful. Colrif spent his time rushing about the slanted console, messing with keys and groaning in frustration every few minutes, and then they were off. The cylinder machine seemed to spin round’ and round’ in circles before coming to a heavy stop wherever they were (he assumed it was Judoonia). The younger Gallifreyan was just hoping they’d landed where they needed to be, or this was going to be a _very_ long and tiring trip. 

 

“And here we are,” Colrif stated confidently, throwing the Tardis doors open to reveal a landscape with mountains soaring into the sky, so tall their tips were no longer visible, hidden with some form of greyish clouds. The ground before them was rocky and could be classed as dangerous, but there were many winding paths leading across the land in which gave out a flatter surface and the sky, the sky was a beautiful blue colour – an almost _breathtaking_ sight. 

“It’s beautiful.” The younger Gallifreyan murmured as he emerged from the Tardis; the doors falling shut behind him. 

Colrif shrugged as he started walking down a winding path, “I suppose it is, isn’t it? Nothing like the planet midnight, however.” 

“Planet what?” 

“Never mind. You’ll learn what it is at some point in your lives,” Colrif sighed, deep and heavy, “Now come along, quick quick, we have to be with the Judoon at some point today,” He smiled, pointing towards a large palace-looking building. “Just in there.” 

 

The pair walked in silence for a good 5-10 minutes, the only sounds being their breathing and the crunch as their shoes hit the ground, but then the younger of the two had to break the silence with a question, “So, what’re we doing here again?” 

Colrif shook his head, scowling, “Haven’t I already explained this to you by now?” 

“Maybe.” 

The two were growing closer and closer to the building with each passing second, the once faraway sight morphing into a clear image. Colrif let out a sigh of relief. “Well, we all know about your ‘disability’, don’t we?” He waited for a nod of confirmation from his mentee before continuing, “And so I just recently got back in touch with some well-known Judoon scientists, and they agreed to do a body scan on you. I just want to make sure that, well, that- It doesn’t matter, I just want to make sure everything is okay.” He shrugged off the question, choosing to answer with something vague as they’d just arrived at the doors to the large building, two creatures (he guessed these were the Judoon from everything he’d learned and seen) dressed in blue armour _conveniently_ blocking the entrance. 

 

“Wo ho plo sho blo ro flo sho yo plo tro sho blo no do sho wo ho blo to sho bo tro so kro no flo so so sho blo ro flo sho yo plo tro sho ho flo ro flo sho fo plo ro?” The tall and stocky creature to the left spoke in some sort of short, hard-spoken language, Colrif being the only one of the two Gallifreyan’s who seemed to understand what the _thing_ was saying. 

“Kro mo sho ho flo ro flo sho to plo sho mo flo flo to sho wo kro to ho sho co blo po to blo kro no sho to yo bo plo sho blo no do sho ho kro so sho so co kro flo no to kro so to so bla sho mo yo sho no blo mo flo sho kro so sho co plo lo ro kro fo tro do ro blo co to ro blo no no sho fo ro plo mo sho go blo lo lo kro fo ro flo yo bla.” Colrif answered quite confidently, subconsciously pushing his chest out slightly, most likely in an attempt to show some sort of dominance on the foreign planet. 

 

The two Judoon seemed to be having a silent conversation as they stared at each other, before the one on the right chose to speak up. “To ho flo sho bo plo yo so sho no blo mo flo spo?” 

Colrif appeared to be contemplating on how to answer the strange creature, “Go blo lo lo kro fo ro flo yo cho so sho mo yo so to flo ro yo sho bo plo yo bla.” He spoke slowly.

 

Whatever Colrif had said, caused the two guards to immediately move back into their previous positions, allowing the two Gallifreyan’s entry into the dark building – the large doors opening with a drawn-out creak to reveal a gaping hallway with blue lights and large passages (most likely widened to accommodate to the sheer _size_ of the aliens).

“Just in here, young Padawan,” Colrif murmured, ushering the younger boy into a room with a mere three Judoon creatures. They all had their headgear off and so it was rather easy to see how they quite clearly resembled a _rhinoceros._

 

“Kro so sho to ho kro so sho ho kro mo spo?” The only Judoon wearing something different – that being a white lab coat – spoke up first and _whatever_ he _had_ said seemed to be directed to Colrif. 

Although, instead of answering verbally and in the Judoon’s own language, Colrif just nodded solemnly, gently pushing his mentee forward till he was in front of the alien, motioning for the boy to stay still from now on.

 

The Judoon in the white lab coat turned to the side, muttering a few, hushed words to his counterparts before returning his gaze back onto the younger Gallifreyan. He held a cylinder shaped object in his left hand, its appearance was _odd_ , with a rather vibrant blue light at its very tip and a magenta-coloured inside. It appeared to be encased in a patterned metal material and had thin, copper rings circling each end.

 

“Is-Is this going to hurt at all?” The boy asked cautiously, curiosity and fear dripping from his words as he was directing his question to anyone in the room who had any simple understanding of what he was asking.

“No, do not worry child, it’ll be fine,” Colrif reassured his mentee softly. Although something akin to humour flashed across his face and he winked teasingly as he added; “As long as you keep still.” 

 

Although the younger male knew it was a simple joke to relieve any of the fear or tension slowly building up in the room, it, however, did not stop the onslaught of worry overflowing in the boys mind. 

 

However, while the two Gallifreyans were distracted and had been engaging in mindless conversation, the Judoon scientist had already carried out and completed the intensive body scan – a seemingly shocked look morphing onto the aliens face as he read back the readings. What they said were, _strange._ Impossible even. Something like this shouldn’t even be _plausible,_ so how it had happened, was unknown by all it seemed. 

 

_“Vitals: Healthy._

_Heartbeat: Normal pace._

_Organs: Intact._

_Overall: Healthy?_

_Error: Rose (Osiria origins) formed onto the heart._

 

An image of the rose on the heart was also shown on the scanner, it was _odd,_ the Judoon, quite frankly, had zero ideas of what to do, and so in turn, he just thrust the scanning device out towards Colrif, zeroing in on the way the mans’ eyebrows furrowed as he read over the results, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. 

 

The scientist was about to say something, _anything,_ but a loud and commanding voice cut through the air like a sharp knife, in a language he could _just_ make out to be Gallifreyan (like the other two had been speaking before).

 

“Colrifudractrann! I know you’re hiding out there with your little hybrid ‘son’. I advise coming out with your hands raised, we have the place surrounded!”

 

Colrif could recognize that voice any day, _The High President of Gallifrey._ How the man had managed to find and follow the two fugitives to Judoonia was beside him, but that wasn’t the most important thing to think about – right now he just needed to get his mentee out of here; the boy didn’t deserve to be tested and experimented on by the High Council. He just _didn’t._

 

Before anyone could _really_ register what was going on, loud voices mixed with threatening words filled the large hallways, masses of shouting and the sounds of crashing and clashing objects echoed off of the dark walls. Colrif swept towards his mentee in quick, swift movements, clasping a thin piece of string holding a single silver key around the boys’ neck. “I’ve linked the Tardis’ controls and the key together. It should be homing in on your coordinates, right about,” He paused, and then the deep sound of whooshing and groaning came sounded out of nowhere. “Now.” 

 

In a blink of an eye, the world containing the Judoon and Colrif and the damn _High Council of Gallifrey,_ began to fade into the insides of that of a familiar Tardis, with its bland, white walls and odd, round circles splattered around. With its minimalistic interior and oddly strange, cylindrical exterior, it felt _almost_ like something akin to home. Even if the younger Gallifreyan had only been in it for a little while. 

Everything from the planet Judoonia was turning blurry and morphing into the interior of the Tardis. The last thing the young Gallifreyan heard was a simple message from Colrif, 

_“Run, you hybrid boy.” And then there was silence._

_The ‘hybrid’ shook his head with a sad smile, walking over to the control panels where a blue and green planet with swirling white was displayed, some place called 'Earth'._

_“Colrifudractrann,”_

_He swung around, flipping levers and hitting switches._

_“Watch me run.”_

**Author's Note:**

> okay hello hi, wow my fingers are numb because its colD
> 
>  
> 
> the conversation between Colrif and the Judoon guards; (i used a Judoon Language Translator for this)
> 
> Judoon guard: "Who are you and what business are you here for?" 
> 
> Colrif: "I'm here to meet with Captian Tybo and his scientists. My name is Colrifudractrann from Gallifrey."
> 
> Other Judoon guard: "The boys name?" 
> 
> Colrif: "Gallifrey's mystery boy." 
> 
>  
> 
> the conversation between Colrif and the Judoon scientist;
> 
> Judoon scientist: "Is this him?" 
> 
> (Colrif nods)
> 
>  
> 
> So, i'm ngl i haven't actually watched the old doctor who's so i don't really know how he left Gallifrey but uno,, Colrif and his mentee (peter pretty much) became fugitives because essentially colrif refused to give the high council the baby-born-blank and that pissed them off so they were hunting them ig whooops


End file.
